I was born in Genoa, like that one who pretends had discovered America, it was at the Gaslini Children's Hospital, one day that noone wants to remember.
When i slip out from the uterus of my mother and open my eyes for the first time the most big blackout that people of Genoa can remember, occurs, the backup generators of the Hospital failed, my mother dies, bleding, the doctors couldn't stop it, and, after all, who would save the life from that woman, she was a no one.
'Save at least the kid!' was the order of the doctor in charge. That's why i can write this Story and not my Mother.
I didn't cry at my birth, its what my aunts told me (they witnessed there), was quiet, my eyes open, trying to see thru the darkness surrounding me, only breaked by the light of a lantern.
Was this a signal of how would be my life? Was a message from my destiny? Don't know, but i don't believe in coincidences.
Who was my father?, don't know. My mother worked at Genoa's Harbor, in social works, attending men, well, why don't say it without euphemisms, she was a whore; as also were my Aunties: Sofia and Claudia.
My name was choosen by my Mother, she believed that i would be cute, therefore they gave me 'Bella', and my last name was given to me by an American sailor, who changed the 'services' of my aunty Claudia, for fill out the birth certificate with his name. Who was Mr. Charles Harsh?, who the hell knows, who cares. We never saw him again.
As no one more was on Earth to take care of a newborn baby, my Aunties take me with them. They would take turns in my attendance.
What happens with the corpse of my Mother, they never told me.